


tremble to love

by the_crownless_queen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Sex Pollen, or the magical equivalent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 12:44:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14694491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_crownless_queen/pseuds/the_crownless_queen
Summary: Pansy&Ginny, and what comes after your mind and body are stolen from you.





	tremble to love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [golden_queen_writes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/golden_queen_writes/gifts).



The crazy thing is, Pansy misses Ginny. They were never together, weren't even quite friends, but they had been… something.

Or at least, she likes to think that they had been on their way there.

(And if Pansy's eyes had lingered a little too long on her not-quite-friend's curves, or if she spent too long staring at Ginny's lips, well, that was her problem.)

But Ginny had spent enough time at St. Mungo's — courtesy of professional Quidditch-related injuries — and Pansy has had to treat enough of her wounds for them to be at least friendly acquaintances, and the way Ginny can't even look at her now simply  _hurts_.

It makes bile rise up her throat, has thorns digging into her heart until she could swear she can taste blood in her mouth.

 _It wasn't my fault!_  she wants to scream in Ginny's face.  _I didn't ask for this any more than you did!_

But she thinks that Ginny wants to hear  _I didn't want to do this. I didn't want you_ , and well, Pansy has told enough lies in her life already.

She's not about to tell another. Not if she can help it.

Because she hadn't wanted it to happen  _like this_  — Morgana,  _never_  — but she had wanted it, had  _dreamed_  and  _fantasized_  about it.

And then it  _had happened_ , and it hadn't been anything like she had hoped.

It had ruined everything.

.

It was luck, really, that had led Ginny to being there, in St. Mungo's, on that day. Or well, misfortune would perhaps be a more accurate term, considering what had happened next.

 _A Potion accident_ , the direction of the Hospital had said, like being robbed of your will and senses and being reduced to mere animal instincts could be characterized as a mere 'incident'.  _Some ingredients were fraudulent and reacted badly when mixed._

 _We sincerely apologize for the inconvenience_ , they had said, like an apology was going to fix anything.

.

Here's what Pansy remember of that day. Here are the memories she tries to repress, but can't, because for all their horror a part of her — a part she hates a little, a part she wants to excise sometimes — loves it also.

 _If this is our one chance to have her,_  it says,  _I want to remember it_.

Ginny shows up just after Pansy's lunch break. Her arm is in a poorly tied sling, and her shoulder is clearly dislocated.

It's the third time this month, and Pansy is pretty sure Ginny should know the spell to set it by now.

Or at least, one of her teammates should.

But it's Ginny, and the redhead is annoyingly perky today despite the pain, so Pansy sets it for her with only minimal grumbling.

"I thought the point of Quidditch was to stay  _on_  the broom," she remarks dryly as Ginny rotates her shoulder once Pansy's done.

Ginny opens her mouth to reply — no doubt something clever and biting, because for all her bravery the Weaslette can fight with words as well as any Slytherin — but she never finishes her thought.

Something passes in the air. A mist, perhaps. It clouds over Pansy's eyes, blurring her vision, and then it passes.

But everything is different now. She feels warm now, too warm, and her head is fuzzy, kind of like that time Blaise had sneaked in Firewhiskey into the dorms and tried to get everyone drunk so they'd sleep with him, before Theo had reached out and dragged him back to his bed under everyone's wolf-whistling.

She doesn't even register herself moving.

She barely registers what happens afterward, but she  _knows_. Merlin, she  _knows_.

(Ginny's body is soft underneath hers, her skin warm and supple, and every sigh and gasp Pansy draws from her lips tastes like ambrosia.

She is everything and Pansy wants to taste her  _everywhere_  and so she does.

Ginny digs her fingernails into her back as she comes and they come back bloody, and then she bites bruises against Pansy's throat and down her neck and to her chest.

They kiss until Pansy forgets her name, and then, and then…

And then it's over, and Pansy wants to throw up, wants to die.

 _This wasn't supposed to happen_.

Ginny flees before Pansy can say anything, and the next time she comes to St. Mungo's — for something much more serious than a dislocated shoulder this time — she asks for a different Healer, her eyes pointedly staring at a point behind Pansy's shoulders, and Pansy pretends her heart isn't breaking.

But Pansy is in training still, and her boss insists that helping out Ginny is a good exercise, and so Ginny's request isn't granted.

Pansy isn't even sure if she's relieved or not.)

.

That night, when Pansy stumbles back home, body aching and head pounding, her mirror whistles at her.

"You look positively  _mauled,_  my dear. Did you at least get her number?"

The rage flares hot and all-encompassing, and before she knows it her fist has hit the mirror.

It is shattered, dozens of pieces branching out from a bloody central impact, and Pansy grins savagely. The distorted image the mirror sends back is almost monstrous, dozens of reflections of a girl she barely recognizes right now, but it fits with the monster inside her chest.

 _Why do you always have to ruin everything you touch?_  that monster screams, and a part of Pansy — the young, childish part who never outgrew dreams and hope, sobs back,  _I don't know, I don't know_.

She stretches her fingers and blood drips from her hand. The wound burns, but this too fits.

It will be easy to fix, the part of her that is all pragmatic Healer-in-training notes. But not yet.

Not yet.

.

"You should talk to her," Blaise tells her as he visits her at the Hospital, Theo a solemn shadow by his side. They're both worried about her, but Pansy's fine.

She is, really. She can deal with this. She can have Potion-induced sex with a girl she likes and consequently ruin any chance she has of ever actually  _getting_  with that girl, but what does it matter?

What does it matter, huh?

She's  _fine_.

She doesn't even realize she'd been screaming until she stops, her chest heaving. her lungs are burning like she can't get enough oxygen, and she doesn't even realize she's fallen until she feels hands on her shoulders, small but oh so warm against the chill in her bones.

The brown eyes and the red hair that frames the face she finds looking back at her when she can finally focus again is a surprise though, and she flinches — but Ginny's grip on her shoulders is tight, and she can't escape it.

She feels like she's underwater, but slowly she starts to hear sounds again, and she can pull them together to form words.

Ginny is calling out her name, and suddenly, just like that, the world jerks back into focus.

Everything hurts, and she clutches at Ginny's hands like they're her lifeline.

 _Please don't leave_ , she thinks desperately, and it's probably not quite healthy that she thinks this about a girl she's only sort of friends with — or was, maybe — but she can't help it.

So few people stay in Pansy's life. She can't help but be greedy with every single person who might.

Ginny chuckles weakly. "I'm not leaving," she says, even though she does lean back a little so Pansy can stand.

Her knees shake a little, but she can stand, and a quick look around the room reassures her that they're alone.

Theo and Blaise must have left when Ginny came in, whenever that was.

She doesn't know whether to curse them or thank them for that. She supposes it'll depend on how this goes.

And then Ginny's words register. "Oh," she says. She tries to pull herself together. She's about fifty percent sure it works, because the remnants of her earlier panic are still clawing at the edges of her mind, but if she focuses on Ginny they're a little easier to ignore. "I said that out loud. I'm sorry."

Ginny shakes her head. "No, I'm the one who should be sorry." She bites her lips, eyes darting down nervously before she takes a deep breath and looks up.

The fire in her eyes steals Pansy's breath away, and it  _aches_.

"I shouldn't have avoided you," she says. "I — That was wrong of me. It hurt you and I'm sorry." She says the words like they're from a script, but Pansy thinks that might just be because Ginny might not be able to say them any other way. "I never meant to hurt you."

Pansy shakes her head. "No, I'm sorry. I — You shouldn't have been put in that position. What happened, that was — What I did…" She can't even say it, but Ginny takes her hands in hers, caressing her knuckles gently.

"We had sex," she states dryly, and Pansy's head jerks up in shock. Usually, she's the one who delights in dropping this kind of sudden statement, and it feels odd, but strangely heartwarming, to hear it from Ginny instead.

"We had sex," Ginny continues, "and from what I remember of it, it was pretty good sex." Her smile turns wry. "And I shouldn't have run out on you like that."

"But we were drugged," Pansy replies, feeling the words like blades in her throat.

Ginny nods. She tries to act nonchalant about it, but Pansy can see that it bothers her still. Her hands are shaking, just a little, and she tightens her grip on Pansy's knuckles for an instant until it's almost painful, before releasing them with a small gasp.

"That's my point," Ginny says, her brown eyes staring, it seems, straight into Pansy's soul.

(What can she see there, Pansy wonders, that she can find worth keeping?)

" _We_  were drugged. I — I blamed you for this," she admits, and the words are like knives against her heart. "But it wasn't your fault. Just like it wasn't mine." Her lips quirk up into another wry smile. "In fact," she says, "I might be more to blame than you.  _I_ was the one who came here to see you when I didn't have to, after all."

At this, Pansy can feel her old self returning. She glares, frowning. "What do you mean, you didn't have to? Your shoulder was dislocated."

Ginny chuckles. "Why, don't you know? I learned to fix that in my first month of training."

"Then why…" The words die on her lips and she tastes hope, wild and bright, in her throat.

"Isn't it obvious? I was coming here to see you. But then…"

"And then I ruined it," Pansy finishes. She gathers the shreds of her dignity around herself like a shroud, turning her voice cold like she hasn't since Hogwarts, and arches an eyebrow at the redhead. "I understand," she states. "You don't have to stay, or come back. I'll be fine, and I can make sure you get a new Healer in the future."

Anger flashes through Ginny's eyes, and for an instant Pansy almost fears the other woman will curse her.

But Ginny only shakes her head and steps closer, her hands hovering inches above Pansy's cheeks, so close she can almost feel the heat radiating off them.

"I was coming here to see you," Ginny states, martelling each word like she's trying to write them into Pansy's skin. "I  _wanted_  to see you. I  _want_  to see you," she amends. Her eyes soften a little. "I like you, and I heard you earlier, when you said that you liked me too, but I thought that with what happened… You wouldn't want anything to do with me."

Pansy snorts in disbelief and Ginny chuckles. "I know, I know, that was very Gryffindorish of me."

"Very dumb of you, yes," Pansy manages to force her croaking voice to say. She feels like something in her chest is cracking open, and it's painful but it's a good kind of pain. A healing kind of pain.

"So, you like me?"

Ginny laughs. "Yeah," she replies. "Pretty dumb, huh?"

"The dumbest," Pansy retorts in her driest tone, but she has the feeling it's betrayed by the grin she can feel threatening to split her face in two.

Again, Ginny laughs before jostling their shoulders together. "Well, then, what does that make  _you_  if you like me back?"

"An idiot, clearly," she replies, simply because she can tell that Ginny will laugh at this again, and that laugh is music to her ears.

She could hear it every day for the rest of her life and not get tired of it.

Ginny's laughter dies down and her smile softens into something a little less bright, if no less gentle.

"Clearly," Ginny echoes, and quick as the Snitches she catches, she darts forward to press a kiss against Pansy's lips.

It tastes like hope and forgiveness.


End file.
